


Running Interference

by Liketheriver



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, perceived character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 12:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15170567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liketheriver/pseuds/Liketheriver
Summary: When something goes terribly wrong on a mission, the team learns that sometimes thing can't be fixed...but sometimes they can, if someone is willing to run interference.





	Running Interference

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Jumper Five Gen Zine that premiered at MediaWest in 2017. I've had the honor of contributing to all five of the Jumper zines and, as always, this one was a pleasure to be involved with. Special thanks to Brate and her editorial team, they helped improve this fic immensely.

 

Running Interference

by liketheriver

When Sheppard walked into Rodney’s lab, the physicist didn’t even look up from the data scrolling across his tablet…

“I told you it would be a couple of hours—“

… which was why he didn’t notice the various pieces of plastic the colonel was carrying in his arms until they tumbled haphazardly across his lab bench.

“What the actual hell, Sheppard?”  Rodney demanded as he took in what had at one time, probably just moments before, been a coffee maker.

“Fix it.”  Sheppard took a deep breath, as if to calm himself, before he said, “Please.”  The late conciliatory addition was overshadowed by the sharp, angry jab John made at the offending appliance with his index finger.

“Are you kidding me?” McKay demanded with a snort as he held up the two pieces that had previously been one on/off toggle switch, as if that was proof enough of the ridiculousness of the request.  “What happened to it, anyway?”

“It…slipped,” Sheppard said defensively.

“Into what?  The path of a steam roller?” McKay snorted and dropped the switch onto the mess before him.

Sheppard placed his hands on his hips in a pose with which Rodney was all too familiar.  “So are you saying the brilliant Rodney McKay _can’t_ fix it?”

With a dismissive shake of his head, McKay turned back to his data stream.  “No, I’m saying my brilliance is much better spent working on something important, like why a Jumper fell out of the sky and killed the entire crew, rather than gluing together a twenty dollar Mr. ‘Coffee’.”  He enclosed the last word in air quotes.  “A moniker that meets the definition of said beverage in only the broadest of terms.  If you want some _real_ coffee, there’s a pot on the table in the back.”

He wasn’t falling for one of Sheppard’s ego challenges.  Not today when he’d lost one of his staff; a halfway intelligent one who knew how to answer when needed and stay out of his way otherwise.  She’d also known how to handle herself in the field and stay alive…at least she had until today.

Instead of a snarky comeback about the sludge Rodney drank, however, there was silence. Rodney looked up at the angry man standing before him, and realized John was on the verge of breaking into as many pieces as the plastic fragments on the table.  Yeah, McKay may have lost a person, but Sheppard had lost three.  Four, actually, since he considered the scientist his responsibility, too.  Hell, he considered pretty much everyone his responsibility when it came down to it.

“We think it was the dust storm,” McKay told him much more calmly than before, with a helpless shake of his head.  “Massive static discharge that fried everything onboard.  And of course with the phenomenal aerodynamics of an unpowered Jumper….”

Rodney left unsaid the obvious that three marines and a xenobiologist had helplessly plummeted to their deaths as a result.

“Have you written the letter to her family, yet?” John asked quietly.

“No, but I’m guessing you were working on the letters for the marines,” Rodney noted as he held up a part of the filter basket, stained dark brown from years of use, “when this slipped and _fell_ against the wall of your office?”

Rodney hated writing the letters home after something like this, and he knew the only person who hated them just as much was Sheppard.  No one on Atlantis came close to the number they had written over the years, and McKay knew he’d only written a fraction of the number John had.

John gave a small, miserable snort.  “You’d think it would get easier.”

“If it helps, there was nothing anyone could have done.” Rodney knew, deep down, that almost made it worse.  Being able to blame it on someone else’s incompetence helped him fool himself that it wasn’t as bad sometimes.  It was a lie, but sometimes you needed the lie to sleep at night.  “If you’d been there—“

“Like I was supposed to be,” Sheppard interjected.

Sheppard had been scheduled to go on the mission to scout out a potential new alpha site.  For security reasons, they had decided the alpha site should move around periodically, and they had two potential abandoned planets to explore for final locations of the base. Lorne was going to one planet and John was supposed to head up the mission to the other.  The day before, however, Woolsey had pulled Sheppard off the mission so he could attend a meeting with the SGC to talk logistical supplies for when they did decide on the final location.  As a result, John had turned the scouting trip over to Mackon’s team.  The planets had been visited already a number of times, and the biggest concern with M53-X49 was a potentially venomous lizard that lived along the one river in the mostly desert area immediately around the gate.  Sending a team with a biologist made more sense anyway, especially since Rodney was running diagnostics on the remaining Jumpers and Teyla was attending a wedding on New Athos.  Not that Sheppard hadn’t assembled other teams in the past for a specialty mission, it just hadn’t seemed necessary on this particular occasion.

“And the fact that you weren’t piloting the Jumper is one of the only reasons this shitfest of a day is even bearable,” Rodney told him.

When McKay first received the call about the crash from the gateroom, he’d had a moment when his chest had tightened.  “Sheppard?” Rodney had asked tentatively into the radio.  He had meant it as a question to the gate tech, because he hadn’t seen Sheppard all day.  While John was supposed to be in the meeting with Woolsey, he was notorious for finding reasons to ditch administrative responsibilities when there was the chance to go offworld. 

Then John’s voice had answered tensely in his ear, “I heard.  I’m on my way.”

Rodney hadn’t felt a moment of guilt at the relief he’d felt hearing Sheppard’s voice that morning, but the look on the man’s face said John was still feeling it.

McKay shook his head.  “Oh, don’t give me that look.  You’re just as relieved I wasn’t on it, or Ronon, or Teyla.  I’m sure your guilt for feeling that way is just one more reason the coffee maker ended up turning into a 3-D jigsaw puzzle.”

Sheppard glared daggers and started gathering the pieces from Rodney’s lab bench.

Rodney sighed heavily and scrubbed his face.  “Okay, look, stop. Okay?  Stop.”  He grabbed the lid to the water reservoir just as Sheppard did and refused to let go when John attempted to yank it from his hand, pulling back just as hard.

“Let go,” Sheppard ground out as he continued to tug.

“You let go,” Rodney insisted, not releasing his hold.

“You are a real asshole, McKay.  You know that?”

“Yeah, maybe I am; and I might be sorry for that.  But I’m not sorry for being glad you’re alive.  I’m sorry the Jumper went down in a fluke accident, I’m sorry the team lost their lives.  I’m sorry the expedition lost a very competent biologist, and Fulson’s parents lost a daughter, and the marines' families lost them.  And I’m sorry we have to write these fucking letters telling their families how they died serving their country with no details about where or how.  But I am not sorry I don’t have to write one of those goddamn letters to your brother; I can’t be sorry for that.  And if that makes me an asshole, then I’m an asshole.”

Rodney realized he and Sheppard were still holding the part between them, but neither was pulling anymore.

“Damn it, McKay, you really are an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t already know.”

“I’m an asshole, too.”

“I said tell me something I _don’t_ already know.”  Rodney tugged gently and Sheppard let go of the plastic. 

“Still doesn’t make writing the letters any easier.”  John waved his hand at the broken coffee maker as if to prove his point.

McKay looked at the part in his hand.  “Remember the first year we were here and the Wraith were coming?  I kept thinking, ‘If we can survive this, we’re home free.’  Even though I knew that wasn’t true.  Hell, the city itself had tried to kill us more times than the Wraith by that time, but I convinced myself if I could get us through that invasion, everyone would be okay.” 

Glancing up at Sheppard, Rodney shook his head.  “Then Grodin died on the satellite.”

“Rodney,” John started, “that wasn’t—“

Rodney held up his hand to stop him.  “It was a good idea.  It bought us time.  But it made me realize that I couldn’t save everyone.  So I decided that everyone was going to die; that from the moment we had stepped foot in Atlantis, we’d all already died.  Because if that was the case, I wouldn’t be responsible for the deaths when the Wraith killed us all.  Every day they stayed alive it was because, against all odds, I had found a way to run interference with death for one more day.  Eventually they’d all die, but in the back of my mind, I told myself, ‘it doesn’t matter, because they are already dead and it's just a matter of time before they stop moving’.”

A raised hand kept Sheppard from interrupting.  “I know that’s fucked up, John.  I know.  I was popping amphetamines like Tic Tacs those last few days and that may have had something to do with….”  He trailed off, letting a flutter of fingers around his head finish his excuse.  “But it doesn’t really matter, because you went on a suicide bombing run to a Wraith ship and ruined it for me anyway.  You _did_ stop moving, or at least the damn little blip that was your Jumper stopped moving on the screen, and it _did_ matter.  So, when you ended up alive, I changed my way of thinking again.  I decided I can’t save everyone, but I can damn well save a few specific people.  As long as those people are in the immediate vicinity of others, which is often the case, those others, who _are_ already dead, get to keep moving for another day, too.”

“You’re right, that is truly fucked up logic, Rodney,” John told him, but he sat on the stool across from the scientist.

McKay didn’t call him on the fact that while Sheppard genuinely did try his damnedest to save everyone, a select few were regularly saved with a little more resolve than others.  Nor did he point out that on a Venn diagram of Rodney’s and Sheppard's select few, the overlap was pretty consistent.   Instead, he shrugged and waggled the piece of coffee maker he still held.  “I can’t fix everything, Sheppard.  Sometimes things break, and I can’t stop it.”  He took his own half-empty coffee cup and pushed it in front of John.  “But at least as long as you walk into my lab, I’ll always have coffee if you need it.”

Sheppard wrapped long fingers around the mug; it was one he’d given McKay for his birthday somewhere along the line. It read, "I have neither the time nor the crayons necessary to explain this to you."  Rodney thought it was the most apropos statement he had ever read.

Instead of drinking, John seemed to be soaking in the warmth and trying to find some comfort in that, which was impressive and rather futile, seeing as the coffee was lukewarm at best.

“If it comes to that, a letter to Dave, you don’t have to be the one—“

“For God’s sake, shut up.”  McKay yanked the mug from Sheppard’s hand and started back toward the coffee pot in the back of the lab, even as he kept up his rant.  “Of course, I’ll be the one to write the letter.  Just like you’ll write the letter to Jeannie if it comes to that.  And you’ll tell her what a goddamn rock star astrophysicist I was, that the expedition is going to fail without me, and that I was saving orphans and alien puppies, even if I die tripping over a dropped pudding cup in the lunch line.”

 He slammed the now steaming hot cup of coffee back down in front of Sheppard, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  “Drink it or don’t,” Rodney groused. “I’m just not one for cold comfort, especially when it comes to coffee.”

Sheppard’s lips twitched in humor and he took a sip.  “Do I even want to know what you’ll say in my letter?”

“It’s a great letter,” Rodney told him with a smug expression.  “You want to read it?”

The cup stopped midway between the table and John’s lips.  “You’ve already written it?  Christ, Rodney, I thought maybe I was one of the ones you still thought of as being alive.”

Rodney rolled his eyes.  “I didn’t write it to be prepared for an eventuality.  I wrote it when you disappeared looking for Teyla.  They were a few days from notifying your family you were MIA.  Didn’t you know that?”

“I did,” John admitted.  “I just didn’t realize you had written a letter.  Did you have me saving orphans?”

“You were already trying to save a pregnant woman! Embellishing the story by adding another category of victims seemed overkill in the heroism department.”  McKay shook his head and pulled the cup from Sheppard’s hand to take a drink himself.  “Seriously, Sheppard, how much recognition does one man need?”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I’m telling Jeannie how you tripped over orphans to save the pudding cups.”

Rodney’s eyes narrowed.

“What?” John asked innocently.  “You said you wanted orphans in the story.”

“Tell you what, when the time comes, just take the letter I wrote for you and substitute Dr. McKay for Colonel Sheppard and you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks for the offer, Rodney, but I’m not going to need to write a letter to Jeannie.  _Ever._   Got that?”

Even though he had said it lightly enough, Rodney could tell from the expression on John’s face that the conversation was over.  He couldn’t really fault Sheppard; Rodney lived with his form of denial and John lived with his own. They’d rowed a fantasy boat together once before, they could sail this one down that river together just as easily.

“Got it,” McKay lied in agreement. 

John nudged one of the heating coils from the coffee maker.  “There was really nothing that could have been done?”

Rodney knew he wasn’t talking about the coffee maker.  “Nothing,” he promised, and this time it wasn’t a lie.  Even if he’d been on the Jumper himself, Rodney knew he wouldn’t have been able to repair it before it went down.

John nodded, as close as he would ever get to acceptance.

“And nothing you can do about this?” This time the question was asked a little sheepishly as he waved a hand over the broken mess.

“There is something I can do.” Rodney stood and grabbed the waste can beside the bench.  He used his arm to sweep the pile into the can.  “Sometimes things just can’t be fixed.” 

Sheppard winced but didn’t object.

“Cheer up, Sheppard; I have an espresso machine coming in a few weeks on the _Daedalus_.  It will change the way you think about coffee, I promise you.”

*             *             *             *

Rodney hadn’t lied; the new espresso machine changed the way John thought of coffee; or more accurately, it changed the way John thought of McKay’s sanity as it pertained to coffee.

It started the day the _Daedalus_ arrived and Rodney had requested four marines to assist with the offloading.  “Ones that actually know how to carry something without dropping it.”

“It’s a coffee machine, Rodney,” John reminded.  “There’s no way in hell I’m giving you four guys to offload a kitchen appliance.”

The shocked look on McKay’s face made Sheppard think the man might cross himself at Sheppard’s blasphemy.  It also made John think he might want to step back a few steps just in case a lightning bolt struck down from above at Rodney’s sacrilege at carrying out such a religious gesture.

Instead, Rodney crossed his arms with a disappointed shake of his head.  “It’s not a coffee machine, Colonel.  It’s a Dutch-manufactured espressonisic work of art.”

John rolled his eyes. Whenever McKay had to make up a word to describe something because real words you could find in a dictionary wouldn’t suffice, it was never a good thing.

“I swear to God, Rodney, you’re acting like drinking coffee from this thing is a religious experience.”

“It is!” McKay exclaimed throwing up his arms.

“It’s a coffee maker, McKay, not the damned Ark of the Covenant.”

“Fine, maybe religious experience isn’t the right word.  Maybe it’s more like…cathartic.”

“It’s coffee, Rodney,” John told him as he turned to walk away.  “ _Coffee_.”

“The best damn coffee you’ll ever drink in your life!” McKay called after him.

However, half an hour later, as John watched the marines carrying a large wooden crate with Rodney leading the way and chastising them to watch the corners, Sheppard doubted McKay would have taken as much care with the actual Ark as he was with this crate.

“Should I be worried that my face is going to melt off when you open that thing?”  John asked when McKay had finally had them set it down in the jumper bay and had one of the marines prying the lid from the crate.  Apparently he was so excited to see his new toy, Rodney couldn’t wait any longer to open the box.

Rodney grinned. “Don’t worry, Marion, just keep your eyes closed against the glare of the chrome and the brass and you’ll be fine.”

“Marion? Please,” Sheppard scoffed.  “I’m Indy.”

“You don’t even have a Ph. D.,” McKay pointed out before mumbling with a lift of his chin, “nor the very sensible fear of snakes.”

“So you’re Indy?  If anything, you’re the one who’s most like Marion.  You’re headstrong, get yourself into more trouble than you’re worth, and are surprisingly capable of holding your liquor.” 

Rodney seemed to be trying to decide if that last was an insult or a compliment.

Sheppard, of course, couldn’t have that.  “Not to mention you both have girl’s names that start with an M.”

McKay opened his mouth to complain, but quickly dropped his outrage when the lid to the crate clattered on the floor.  Instead, he eagerly started pulling packing material from the box and tossing it haphazardly around him.

Looking over McKay’s shoulder, Sheppard let out a low whistle of appreciation.  “That has more chrome than my first motorcycle.”

“It probably cost more than your first _car_ ,” Rodney snorted as he brushed the last of the packing away.  “It’s a Kees Van der Westen,” he stated proudly.

“Wasn’t that the name of the Nazi general in _Raiders_?” John teased, but he had to admit, it was a pretty impressive looking piece of machinery with all the copper lines, brass fixtures, and chrome finishing brushed into an intricate geometric pattern.

McKay obviously thought so, too, given the way he ignored John and was lovingly running his fingers over one of the dials.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone,” Sheppard told him with a slap to his shoulder.  “Give me a call when you have it up and running and I can try a cup of joe.”

The slap brought Rodney out of his reveries long enough to rub at his arm and ask, “Are we still on for a movie later?”

John stopped at the door and raised an eyebrow.  “You willing to leave your Van der Beek long enough to join us?”

“Van der _Westen_ ,” McKay stressed with a roll of his eyes.  “And I should have it installed in a few hours.  I’ve already made the modifications to the Jumper.”

“Jumper?” John demanded.  “You don’t honestly think you’re setting up a Starbucks in my Jumper, do you?”

“Starbucks wishes it had this espresso maker, and it’s not _your_ Jumper, Sheppard.”

“I’m the pilot, Rodney,” John reminded him.

“Yes, I’m aware.  And you already used that argument to pick the music, which believe me, I was fully behind when Ronon went through his divas power group stage and wanted to play ‘What a Man’ twenty-four/seven…”

Great, John thought to himself, now I’m going to have _that_ song stuck in my head for the next week.

“…but I’m in charge of outfitting the Jumper, hence the ability to play En Vogue whenever Ronon is extra grumpy, and the heavy metal hair bands whenever you are.  Driver picks the music; shotgun picks the snacks.  That’s Road Trip 101, Sheppard.”  Rodney patted the crate to accentuate the point.  “Or, we can always switch those roles and responsibilities.”

John jabbed a finger in McKay’s face. “There is no way in hell I’m listening to Duran Duran on every mission.”

 “Then you break out the power ballads and I’ll make you an Americano.” Rodney rocked back on his heels with a victorious grin. “Or who knows what might happen with the playlists on the iPod.”

Sheppard could never get over how McKay could make smug look so threatening.  It made him decide to change tactics.

John shrugged.  “I would think you would want it close to you in the lab.”

“Are you kidding?  It will be safer in the Jumper than in the lab.  I don’t want my staff touching it.  It'll be broken in a week.”

“You mean your staff who maintains the highly intricate inner workings of the city?”

Rodney shifted uncomfortably and avoided the question.  “The point is, if it’s in the Jumper I can use it when it’s here in the Jumper bay and when we’re on missions.  It’s the most convenient option.”

John shook his head and tried one more idea.  “Fine; keep it in the Jumper.  Just don’t bitch when your Van de Kamp gets blown to bits in a fight with the Wraith.”

“Van der Westen,” Rodney corrected again, already turning his attention back to the machine.  “And better we go down together than live on alone.”

John rolled his eyes.  If nothing else, he figured McKay would get tired of walking all the way to the Jumper every time he wanted a cup of coffee, or Ronon and Teyla would get tired of it in the Jumper.  While Teyla wouldn’t say anything to Rodney, she would to Ronon, and the big guy was not one to keep his opinions to himself.  Yeah, it was just a matter of time before Rodney would eventually remove it.

Neither of those happened.

In fact, Ronon loved the damned thing from the first tiny espresso cup he held in his massive hands.  Over the next few weeks, Rodney had a cup waiting for Ronon when he came in the back hatch of the Jumper.  John should have known Rodney was smart enough to figure out he had to get Ronon on board with the idea first. He even showed Ronon how to use the damn thing with almost as much skill as Rodney displayed.  If nothing else, John figured Ronon could have a career as a barista if they ended up trapped on Earth again.

After that, Rodney only needed to make a mocha with that expensive chocolate he got from San Francisco and Teyla was hooked. Even Sheppard couldn’t complain too much when Rodney silently set a caramel macchiato on John’s office desk one day, then turned and walked out with a confident stride.

The son of a bitch had hooked them all, and he knew it.

John had to admit, it was kind of nice to come back to the Jumper after a long day of trekking through jungle overgrowth looking for an Ancient signal or attending a trade negotiation with the equivalent of a third world society and enjoy a nice cup of coffee.

Even after a meeting with the Tollocs, one of the more advanced Pegasus societies, it was a relief to hear the whoosh of steam building up in the contraption.  The Tollocs were on par with the Genii, only they tended toward chemical and pharmaceutical research as opposed to weapons research, much like the Hoffans.  However, they had changed leadership over the past year and they were more interested in expanding their work into other areas.

John dropped exhaustedly into the pilot seat. Given a choice between jungle and diplomatic trips, he’d take the jungle any day.  “Well, considering everything they wanted from us and how many times we had to say no, they seemed to take it well.”

Rodney was tamping down coffee grounds into the doohickey that held the coffee grounds… the portafilter!  McKay had given Sheppard a rudimentary overview of the machine at one point and if push came to shove, John could probably brew a cup on his own, but it would be a close thing.

“Considering they're working with the Genii,” McKay pointed out, “I’m surprised they need our help supplying them with some of the materials they wanted.”

“They said nothing of an alliance with the Genii,” Teyla noted, and John had been thinking the same thing.

“No, but one of the scientist in their lab was from the Genii secret bunker on their homeworld,” McKay informed them.  “He used to have a beard, but I’m almost positive it’s him.”

“Maybe he was booted out after the coup,” Ronon suggested.

“Things were quite chaotic during that time,” Teyla agreed.  “Many Genii faithful to Cowen fled to other worlds when Ladon Radim came to power.”

John considered for a moment.  Although their relationship with the Genii had been spectacularly horrible during the Cowan and Kolya days, Radim had maintained a peace with Atlantis for several years and seemed to be a man of his word.

“Think you can talk to him tomorrow, Rodney?” John asked.  “Maybe see if he’s working with the Tollocs as a representative of the Genii or if he’s more of a free agent?”

“Hey, if it gets me out of sitting through another eight-hour meeting with a bunch of diplomats, then I’m all for it,” McKay agreed as he poured his espresso into a cup.  “There’s only so much 2048 you can play on your tablet and still look like you’re doing important work.”

It was less than five hours into the meeting the next day, however, when Meilos, the Tolloc attaché assigned to their negotiations, stood abruptly when a messenger entered and whispered urgently in his ear.  With a forced smile and apology, he told them there was a matter that needed his attention and promised to return shortly. About ten minutes later, he came back into the room with a grave look on his face.

John heard the words he spoke, knew the meaning of each individually, but they just wouldn’t make any sense when he tried to put them together.

He knew what an “explosion” was and an “accident” and a “lab” and “heavy casualties.”  He understood the definition of “damage” and “fire” and “recovery” and “hopeless” and “sorry, so terribly sorry.”  Still, they were just words, only words, jumbled and chaotic and falling all around him with no purpose but destruction; raining down like shards of glass and the searing metal wreckage of a fuselage, then tumbling away beneath him into sand charred dark with blood and fire. They had no meaning, simply fell away like the world was currently threatening to do.

Somewhere in the confusion of trying to decipher the meaning of all these smoldering words that burned his mind every time he got close to unraveling the puzzle, he heard Teyla speak.

“Where is Dr. McKay now?”

She was standing right beside him…(and when had he stood?)…her hand resting on his arm.  He could feel her trembling.  Or maybe it was him?  Nothing was making sense.  Nothing.

Meilos was talking again, saying more horrible, fucking, meaningless words: “chemicals,” “toxic,” “too dangerous,” “lockdown,” “bodies.”

Bodies.

They weren’t people anymore; they were bodies.

John liked people; always had.  He liked kicking back and having a beer and talking shit with his buddies.  Yeah, he liked flirting with women in bars and having a day out in the sun with the top down and a cooler in the backseat of his car.  Then Afghanistan had turned the people he had liked into bodies and his family into strangers and he had tried to pretend that he didn’t need people, didn’t care about them, didn’t want them around.  He’d flown over the ice, just him and the occasional passenger, in his chopper and pretended he liked it.  Pretended he liked the solitude, liked the sound of the rotors and the spread of blinding white that went as far as he could see in all directions with nothing but snow and ice and bitter cold.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder--Ronon--and John realized the white had been his vision blurring and the whump, whump, whump of the rotors was the blood pounding in his ears.  Funny, he still felt the biting cold all the way to his bones.

For a moment he wished he was back in Antarctica, but that was where he’d met Rodney and the son of a bitch had changed his life. That’s where it had all begun and he’d ended up in Atlantis and found more people to like, found friends to hang out with and watch movies with and play video games with.  Then Atlantis had turned so many of the people he liked into bodies, too.  Ford, Elizabeth, Carson….

“Rodney,” John started hoarsely.

It wasn’t McKay anymore; it was a body.

John cleared his throat.  “The body… we’d like to see it.”

“I’m sorry, Colonel Sheppard,” Meilos told him sympathetically. “That won’t be possible.  The toxin levels in the lab are so high we’ll have to burn them off to enter.  The temperatures, not to mention the highly corrosive nature of the chemicals….” He sighed.  “Well, there won’t be any bodies to recover at that point, I’m afraid.”

“No!” John snapped and felt the hands on his arm and shoulder tighten.  “We’ll send a team with protective equipment. They’ll be able to enter the lab and recover….”

It wasn’t McKay anymore; it was a body.

“The chemicals are very corrosive.  Whatever remains are in the lab--” Meilos protested.

Sheppard spoke through gritted teeth. “I said, no.”

“Colonel, I had hoped to spare you this, but there is a video…”

Then there were images, grainy and black and white, that made even less sense than the words had.  Rodney in the lab with four Tollac scientists.  An explosion.  Rodney on the floor, unmoving.   A fog of gas spreading through the lab obscuring the view.   Screams of two of the scientists who were still conscious, their shapes moving in a panic through the fog, then silence.   Two more shapes twitching on the ground, then they were still, as well.

In the back of his mind, he could hear Rodney’s voice saying, “It doesn’t matter because they are already dead and it is just a matter of time before they stop moving.”

He must have said it aloud, because Meilos was looking at him in confusion.  “Yes, they all died within seconds of the exposure.  Dr. McKay was fortunate that he was unconscious--”

Sheppard looked up at the Tollac with murder in his eyes, intent on showing the bastard there was nothing fortunate about being dead, unconscious at the time or not.

Teyla, again, spoke up even as Ronon was moving John toward the door.  “You’ll excuse us, Chancellor, but I think it is best we return to Atlantis.”

Sheppard was doing his best to block the images of the video, clinging to the white instead.  He focused on the calm of the snow and ice, the rotors beating louder with every step he took.  Ronon’s hand still rested on his shoulder, guiding him back toward the Jumper.  He nodded wordlessly at Teyla when she asked from his other side something about if he was able to fly.  Of course, he could fly; if he was alive, he could fly.  As far as he could tell, he hadn’t stopped moving yet.

The back of the Jumper opened and the smell of coffee that hit him caused John to stagger with his next step.  Arms steadied him from both sides and pushed him far enough inside the ship that the door could close.  He looked over to see tears streaming silently down Teyla’s face.  It was enough to shake him out of his haze and remember he wasn’t the only one who had lost a teammate today. Wrapping an arm around Teyla’s shoulder he pulled her in tight against his chest.  Never one to miss out on a hug, Ronon engulfed them both in strong arms. 

John wasn’t sure how long the three of them stood like that, clinging to one another for comfort.  All he knew was if Rodney had been there, he would have hated every second of the embrace.

Again, he must have spoken aloud when he hadn’t meant to, because Teyla hiccupped a small laugh against his chest and Ronon just tightened his arms around them both.

 *             *             *             *             *

By the time they were back on Atlantis, Sheppard seemed to be back in control of his emotions.  Ronon, however, knew from experience it was all just an act.  The worried glance Teyla shot him as the two of them trailed behind their team leader let Ronon know she had reached the same conclusion. 

Woolsey met them as they came out of the Jumper bay.  “Colonel Sheppard, I am so sorry about Dr. McKay.  He was…well, an invaluable, and quite honestly irreplaceable, member of the expedition.  Not to mention wonderful person.”

“He was an arrogant ass,” Sheppard countered.

Woolsey blinked behind his glasses, unsure what to say in return.

“But he was our arrogant ass.” Sheppard paused and took a deep breath before continuing hoarsely, “And you’re right; no one will ever be able to replace him.”

Sheppard turned quickly on his heels and headed out of the gateroom.

Woolsey started after him. “Colonel Sheppard, I’m sorry but the SGC needs—“

The expedition commander came to a stop with Ronon’s hand on his chest.  “Not now,” the Satedan stated with a dangerous finality.  He hadn’t been able to protect McKay, but he would damn sure look out for Sheppard.

Woolsey looked to Teyla for assistance, but she simply shook her head.  “The SGC can wait for Colonel Sheppard’s report until tomorrow.  I can provide what little any of us know, if that will be of assistance.  I will join you as soon as I check in on Torren.”

“Of course,” Woolsey acquiesced as he took a step back.

Satisfied there would be no one barging in on Sheppard for the rest of the day, Ronon turned and fell into step beside Teyla.

“He’s not going to handle this well,” Ronon told her as they trailed behind Sheppard’s quickly moving form ahead of them. 

It had been strange to meet an entire culture of people who had never seen their whole civilization under attack on a regular basis, but the expedition members from Earth had never lived under the threat of the Wraith.   The Pegasus Galaxy celebrated those who lived to die of old age because it was so rare.   For the expedition, living to old age was the expectation.  While Sheppard had lost more than most, he still believed survival was the norm, not the exception.  He also felt that his team was his family, and Rodney, being the first person Sheppard had met on the expedition, was the first family he’d had in a very long time.  Sheppard would probably feel the wound of this loss until his own dying day, even if that day didn’t occur until he was an old man. 

“I know,” she agreed.  “Which is why you must remain close to him.”

“Me?”  Ronon had planned to do just that, but, “What about you?”

“There is something I must do.”  When Ronon raised a questioning eyebrow at her vague answer, Teyla confessed, “I must speak to Ladon Radim.  If the scientist Rodney saw was truly a Genii--”

“You’re not going on your own,” Ronon told her with no room for argument.  He’d just lost McKay; there was no way he was losing Teyla, as well.  “If the Genii are involved what’s to stop them from taking you out, too?  I’m going with you.”

Teyla shook her head.  “I will request a meeting on neutral ground and take Major Lorne and his team.  You must stay with John.  He needs his friends close.”

“Which is why you should stay here,” Ronon argued.  “Let someone else interrogate the Genii.”

“That is exactly why I need to go.  If this is approached as an interrogation, we will learn nothing.” 

“Sheppard isn’t going to be happy when he finds out you’re gone,” Ronon warned.

“This is why I need you to stay and...what is the football term?”

“Run interference?” Ronon raised an eyebrow.  “You want me to distract him.”

“Keep him occupied,” Teyla amended before she rested a hand on his crossed arms.  “I will return quickly, I promise.  Just do not tell John where I have gone.  You know he can make very rash decisions when he is emotional.”

“Like running off to talk to the Genii?”

“Ronon, who else is better to speak to Ladon and hope to gain answers?”

He hated the idea, but knew she was right.  “Fine.  But tell me when you’re leaving and check in as soon as you get back.  If you’re gone more than an hour, I’m coming to look for you personally.”

“Of course,” she promised.

He watched Teyla as she took off toward her quarters and went to find Sheppard.  He found him in his office, sitting at his desk with a coffee maker in front of him and holding one of the small yellow notes McKay liked to stick on things with messages like, "Property of R. McKay," or "-Hands off," or "Do not touch. This means you, Sheppard!"

“Sheppard?” he called quietly when John didn’t seem to notice he’d come in.

“That son of bitch,” Sheppard said, not looking up from the note.  “That egotistical son of a bitch.”

Ronon moved around to read the note from over Sheppard’s shoulder.  It was in McKay’s distinct scribble and read, ‘Of course, I could fix it.  Hello!  Genius!’

Looking more closely at the coffee maker, Ronon could see it had been meticulously glued back together.   A few parts even looked to be fabricated from other pieces that didn’t originally come from the machine in front of him. 

Sheppard was slowly crumpling the note in his hand, so Ronon reached down and took it from him before gently smoothing it and sticking it back on the coffee maker.  He could picture McKay writing the note: hunched over his lab bench and dotting the exclamation points with a sharp stab of his pen, wearing a conceited grin he would never see again.

“Let’s get some food,” Ronon coaxed.

Sheppard shook his head.  “I’m not hungry, big guy.”  He scrubbed his face exhaustedly.  “Besides, I really need to call Jeannie and let her know.”

Ronon knew that wasn’t a good idea, at least not yet.  Looking up at the clock on the wall, he found his excuse. “It’s about two in the morning there.  You should let her sleep while she can.”

Sheppard almost looked relieved at having a reason to put off the call.  “Maybe you’re right.”

“Then let’s hit the gym.”

“Not now,” Sheppard said.

Ronon refused to be blown off that easily.  “Okay, then let’s go for a run.”

“Look, Ronon, I don’t want to eat, or workout, or go for a fucking run.  Okay?”

“Of course you don’t,” Ronon agreed.  “But you do want to punch something until your knuckles bleed and your hands go numb, or scream until your lungs give out and you can’t speak.  You can’t do any of those things in your office, but you can on the north tower.” 

Sheppard just stared at him, as if he was shocked that Ronon had somehow read his mind. 

The thing was, it wasn’t some sort of psychic ability; it was simply Ronon's own memory of how he had felt when he had lost the most important person in his life.   Besides, he’d felt like doing those things himself since he had seen the video of the lab accident.

“So do you want to go for a run or not?” Ronon asked again.

“Let me change into my running shoes.”

Ronon could always leave Sheppard in the dust on their runs, mainly because while Sheppard called it running, he typically jogged, a concept Ronon never really understood.  Today, however, John was setting a pace like a man who was running for his life, or maybe away from it.  Ronon didn’t complain, just leaned in and met Sheppard’s stride.  It was a gorgeous day on Atlantis, with the sun bright, setting the hallways of the city on fire with a yellow and red glow through the stained glass, then flickering with dazzling brilliance off the jagged waves whipped up by the breeze when they moved outside.  If this had been any other day, Ronon would have savored the contradiction between hot sun and cool ocean air.  Today, all of his attention was on this one friend, so he didn’t have to think too much about the one he’d lost.

They reached the north hub, and instead of going toward the transporter to the tower, Sheppard turned the opposite direction toward the piers.  When the dock was in sight, Sheppard put his head down and sprinted the last couple hundred yards.  For a split second, Ronon thought he might just keep running straight off the end of the dock and into the water, but Sheppard pulled up short and bent in the middle with his hands on his knees to gulp air.

He straightened just enough to wipe sweat from his face, still breathing hard from the run.  “We used…used to come here…when he had the thing in his brain.”  Sheppard’s hand flittered toward his own head in what Ronon recognized as a very McKay gesture.  “It was easier…on him…away from the crowds…the people he didn’t know…anymore.”

“I remember,” Ronon assured him.

“At the time I thought…Christ, I thought…this is the worst way for him to die.” 

Ronon had felt the same way, had remembered the helplessness of watching his grandfather succumb to the same sickness.  Rodney had drifted from a brilliant scientist to a near child in a matter of weeks.  The gradualness of it allowed McKay to realize what was happening but the suddenness not giving any of them nearly enough time to accept what was to come.  It was a horrible way for a man with a brain like McKay's to die.

Sheppard stood, staring at the water, his hand rubbing at his chest.  “I hated it…hated watching him lose himself…lose us…I was terrified that…before it was all over…he’d forget me, too…and he’d die alone…and I thought nothing…could be worse…than watching that happen.” 

Sheppard seemed to simply give up on standing and dropped to the dock.  He squeezed his eyes closed tight against the glare of the sun on the waves.  “I was wrong…God damn, I was so… fucking…wrong…because he died alone anyway.”  Falling back to stare up at the sky, he took a deep breath and yelled, “FUCK!” at the top of his lungs.

Ronon found he had the need to do the same, so the two of them spent the rest of the afternoon screaming obscenities at the city, the ocean, and the world in general.

After their lungs were burning and their throats raw, Ronon offered, “You ready to go punch something?”

Sheppard took the offered hand to pull himself to his feet and patted Ronon on the shoulder.  “I think I’ll save that for tomorrow.”

“Then I could use a beer,” Ronon told him.

“I could use a lot of beers.”

By the time Teyla came to find Ronon, he had a healthy buzz going.  Sheppard had passed out on his sofa, more from physical and emotional exhaustion than the three and a half beers he’d drunk; the last half of the fourth had ended up as a puddle on the floor when it tumbled out of Sheppard’s hand in his sleep.  Ronon was cleaning it up when Teyla rang at his door.

“I was told neither of you had been seen in the cafeteria.”  She held a tray with sandwiches and a few pieces of fruit.

“He fell asleep about an hour ago,” Ronon told her and moved so she could look past him to see John asleep on the sofa. 

“Good.  He will need his rest.  How is he otherwise?”

“Hurting,” he told her matter-of-factly.  “A lot.”

“He is not the only one,” Teyla confided.

Ronon sometimes forgot that Teyla had known Rodney almost as long as Sheppard had known the scientist. 

“I’m just glad he fell asleep at all.  I’m honestly kind of jealous.”

“I will stay with him if you like,” she offered.  “I have made contact with the Genii and set the meeting for tomorrow morning.”

“Then you’re the one who should get some sleep.  I doubt I could anyway.” The one time he had dozed off, he had started to dream of Sateda burning around him as he searched for his Malena, only the fire morphed into a thick chemical fog and it wasn’t Malena he was trying to find, it was his team.  He had jerked awake when McKay, fighting to breathe and blistering with chemical burns, staggered out of the haze to collapse at his feet.  If that’s what was awaiting him in his sleep, he’d rather stay awake.

He gave a small shiver at the memory to shake it off and changed the subject.  “Woolsey agreed to let you go?”

“Mr. Woolsey is not exactly pleased with my plan, but once I explained the circumstances, he agreed it is the most prudent action.  He did insist on Major Lorne’s team plus a dozen marines to accompany me, which is more than I had anticipated.  I do not want this to appear to be a show of force.”

“I’m not complaining,” Ronon admitted.  “I should be going with you, or you should let Lorne take care of it on his own.”

“This is something I must do, Ronon.”

Looking at her red-rimmed but steely gaze, he realized something else.

“Why are you really going to see the Genii?”

“If the Genii are responsible for what happened to Rodney, then they should be held accountable.  If they are not, perhaps they know who is.”

“What if it really was just an accident?”  Ronon wanted someone to blame just as much as she did; it made it easier to want to take out all the pain on someone else.  Not that it really helped when you did get the vengeance you craved, but it was something else to focus your heartache on for a while.  The video they had seen, however, told another story.

“Does it not seem suspicious that the day after Rodney recognized a Genii scientist he is…”  Teyla took a moment to steady her emotions; she seemed unable to say the word. “Ronon, I must know for sure, and I must act if there was sabotage behind what happened.”

“Well, you sure aren’t going on a revenge mission without me.”

She shook her head.  “I am gathering information only.  I promise that whatever I learn, I will return and share with both you and John.”

“Share what?” Sheppard asked groggily as he sat up on the sofa.

“Sandwiches,” Teyla supplied, holding up the tray and warning Ronon with a glance to say nothing about her planned meeting with the Genii.   “I thought you might be hungry; although, I had not meant to wake you.”

Sheppard scrubbed a hand through his hair, causing it to stand up even more than it normally did.  “I hadn’t meant to fall asleep.”

Teyla placed the tray down on the coffee table then sat beside Sheppard.  “There is nothing wrong with sleeping, or eating for that matter.”  She handed a sandwich to John, who just stared at it blankly.  “Rodney would not wish for you to neglect your well being.”

Sheppard gave a snort.  “Are you kidding?  He’d want us to declare a national day of mourning in his honor.  Hire a chorus of small Athosian children to sing his praises for a week while we do without food or sleep until we complete a monument in his memory in the middle of the gateroom with our bare hands.”

Teyla let a smile twitch at her lips.  “Perhaps you are exaggerating.”

“No,” Ronon confirmed, “he said that’s what he wanted that time he was trapped in the tree by those six-legged creatures covered with orange feathers.”

“You mean the creatures that were only trying to get at the fruit in the tree he had climbed?” Teyla reminded.  “Although, I remember him asking that statues be erected in his honor on both Earth and Atlantis.”

Sheppard shook his head.  “That was when he was defusing the bomb on M45-8X2.  Remember?  He wanted a statue on that planet, as well, as thanks for saving their village.”

“I thought that’s where he wanted them to put his face on their money,” Ronon said, taking a bite of one of the sandwiches.

“No,” Teyla corrected, “ _that_ was the time he deactivated the laser weapon in the markets of Kannous.”

“And instead they gave him all that fruit that made him break out in green hives.”  Sheppard added.

Ronon started laughing.  “He was running in circles, flailing his arms, screaming, ‘I’m Hulking out! I’m Hulking out!’”

Sheppard couldn’t help but laugh, as well.  “Thank God he wasn’t or you would've never been able to tackle him and hold him down until I could dose him with an Epi-pen.”

All three of them laughed again at the memory and Ronon felt the knot in his chest loosen.  He hadn’t realized it was even there until they’d started reminiscing, but when they had, it was like a shaft of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

“Rodney had a habit of eating things he should not,” Teyla noted.

“He had a habit of eating things, period.”  Ronon spoke around another mouthful of his sandwich, and noticed Sheppard had finally taken a bite of his own.

“Like that wedding cake on Darmock with the funky nut butter.”  Sheppard leaned back into the cushions of the sofa as he reminisced.  “Jesus, I thought we were going to overdose him on epinephrine when we all went after him at the same time with Epi-pens.”

“And then he admitted he was not suffering from an allergic reaction, he was just using it as an excuse to leave,” Teyla said in a tone that conveyed she didn’t approve but couldn’t help but find it amusing looking back on it.

“He could be an annoying piece of shit sometimes,” Sheppard said with another laugh, this one a little sadder.  He reached in a pocket and pulled out the Epi-pen he always carried.  “Guess I won’t be needing this anymore.  Going to be weird not carrying it around.”  He squeezed it tightly, seemingly not wanting to let it go.

Ronon felt the moment of levity slipping away, felt the storm clouds closing in around them again and he didn’t want that just yet.   They would be back soon enough, but for now, he just wanted to remember some of the good times.

“The only thing worse than McKay eating the wrong thing was him complaining that he was going to starve to death.” Ronon reminisced.  “Like when we were trapped in that temple. He was trying to get the doors open and he managed to fuse his hand to a column that was actually an Ancient device.” 

Teyla took up the story. “He made us pool all of our food then proceeded to eat every PowerBar we had between us.”

“And we were only trapped for a couple of hours,” John concluded.  “At least he figured out a way to get us out; I was afraid he might resort to cannibalism next.”

They laughed again, and spent the rest of the night reminding each other of even more memories they all had shared, building the shrine to McKay in their minds, if not in the gateroom.  Ronon watched as Sheppard silently slipped the Epi-pen back into his pocket.  Neither he nor Teyla commented as the hours passed and John would occasionally check to remind himself the medical device was still there.

The next morning, Sheppard was bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, but kept his word and met with Woolsey for the debriefing.  Teyla used the meeting as her chance to leave Atlantis with her back-up of marines without Sheppard noticing.

Ronon saw her off, reiterated she had one hour or he was coming after her himself, and made it very clear to Lorne that he’d already lost one teammate and he better not lose another.  Once Teyla left, he saw Sheppard was still with Woolsey, so Ronon decided he had time to grab some breakfast in the cafeteria.  It was the first time he’d been alone since they had returned from Tollac.  He realized that was a weird thought seeing as he was surrounded by other expedition members, and several took the time to stop by his table and say how sorry they were about McKay.  Maybe it was the sympathy from the others that made him feel the loneliness even more because it just reminded him that the place he had come to think of as home would never be the same again.  He wished Teyla was sitting beside him, Sheppard across, and more than anything that McKay would plop down beside Sheppard, already bitching about something.  He mumbled awkward thanks to those who took the time to give their condolences, but finished eating quickly, grabbed a tray for Sheppard, and made his escape.

He tracked Sheppard down in his office, where he was already into his call to Jeannie.  Ronon slipped into the dark room without a word.  The only illumination was the glow of the computer screen and Ronon didn’t think Sheppard even noticed him enter.  John may have wanted to be alone for the call, but Ronon really didn’t give a damn.  He’d been dreading this almost as much as Sheppard, which just meant Sheppard was going to need to go punch something afterwards.  After his breakfast experience, Ronon knew he needed to do the same.

“Will you wait for me to get there before you have the memorial service?” Jeannie was asking.

Ronon couldn’t see Jeannie, as the laptop was turned away from him, but he could hear her voice was thick with tears.  The pain he heard made his own chest tighten.

Sheppard nodded as he struggled to get his own emotions under control.  “I’m sorry, Jeannie.  I wanted to bring him home to you—“

“John, stop.  I told you already this isn’t your fault and I meant it.  Besides, Earth isn’t his home and you know that as well as I do.  Mer loved Atlantis…” Her voice broke as she continued.  “And he loved you. He loved working with you, all of you.”  Ronon could hear her blow her nose then she groaned.  “Uhg!  I sound like Goose’s wife in _Top Gun_.  Leave it to my fucking brother to die and turn me into an 80’s movie stereotype.  But it’s true; and I love you, too, because if it hadn’t been for you I never would have had him back in my life these last years.”

“He loved you, too, Jeannie,” Sheppard assured her.  “He would have done anything for you.”

Ronon knew that was true.  He knew McKay had volunteered to let Todd feed on him in order to save Jeannie.  He also knew what Sheppard had done to keep that from happening.

“I know he did, but he never would have reached out to me again if he hadn’t changed because of his friendship with you.  Christ, you’re as much family to him as I am.  Probably more so because he _chose_ you.”

“Not sure chose is the right word,” John said.  “He kind of just got stuck with us.”

“Please,” Jeannie said in a painfully familiar tone McKay had used a million times in the past.  “Everything was a choice with Meredith.  Even his _name_ became a choice to him.  If Mer didn’t want you in his life, you wouldn’t be there.  Period.  He chose you, John, and don’t you lessen the memory of the man he became by trying to deny it.”

Sheppard could only nod again, swallowing hard so he could force out a whispered, “Okay.”

Ronon heard another wet nose-blowing through the screen.  “Christ, I’m a mess.  I’m going to go through this entire roll of toilet paper before we finish talking.”  

“It’s okay,” Sheppard assured her, although he looked ready to shatter into a million pieces.

“You know you can cry, too.”  Jeannie lowered her voice to conspiratorial whisper.  “I won’t tell anyone.”

“No toilet paper handy,” Sheppard gave as an excuse.

“Seriously, John, it’s okay to miss him.” 

“I know,” Sheppard managed to whisper again. “I do.”

“I know you aren’t into all this touchy feely stuff, but if you want to let it out, it would probably do you some good.  It’s very…cathartic.”

The word must have triggered something, because Sheppard covered his face with his hands and scrubbed hard as he groaned and let out a helpless, “Fuck, Jeannie…sometimes you sound just like him.”

“Mer told you to show your emotions?” she asked in surprise.

Lowering his hands, he shook his head.  “No, it’s not that.  It’s…I can’t.  I just can’t.”  John stared at the ceiling and Ronon knew he was fighting to maintain control.  “Everything he did was so goddamn big and bold and over the top, he just bowled over everyone and everything in his path. Except me.  He trusted me to keep him in check.  I can’t let him down and let him bulldoze over me now that he’s... because if I let this get the best of me… if that happened….”  He took several deep, shuddering breaths before looking at the screen again.  “I wouldn’t be able to give you Rodney’s message for you.” 

“Message?  I thought it happened too fast—“

Sheppard spoke before she could finish her thought.  “He wanted you to know that he died saving orphans and puppies.”

Jeannie choked out a laugh.  “Bullshit.”  She laughed again between tears.  “But thanks for trying, John. Oh, God, my brother was such an ass.”

The door to Sheppard’s office slid open, as Teyla ran in.  “John, we must leave for Tollac at once.”

Sheppard stood from behind his desk.  “What’s going on?”

“I met with Ladon Radim—“

“You _what_?” John demanded.

Teyla held up a hand to silence him and continued speaking, “The Genii scientist Rodney saw in the lab. According to Ladon, he was assisting the Tollacs on a new weapons system several months ago when he was killed in a lab explosion and his body destroyed beyond recognition by a corrosive gas.”

“The same thing that happened to McKay,” Ronon said, pointing out the obvious.

Teyla looked at Ronon, surprised to see him standing there.  If Sheppard was surprised to see the large man in his office, he didn’t show it.  His mind was already coming to the same conclusion all of them had reached.  Ronon’s own heart was racing in a combination of shock and relief.

“Son of a bitch, they faked his death.” Sheppard braced himself on his desk as the truth sunk in.  “Rodney’s still alive.”

From the computer, Jeannie exclaimed, “Oh, for fuck’s sake!  Are you kidding me?  Mer’s alive?” 

Apparently, Ronon wasn’t the only one who had forgotten Jeannie was even still on the call.  Sheppard blinked and a small smile was spreading across his face.  “I think, yeah, I think he might be.”

“John, you have to find him,” Jeannie ordered urgently.  “You have to find him and bring him back.”

“I will,” he promised, the grin growing at the prospect.  “I’ll… _He’ll_ call you when we get back.

“And when you do find him, tell Mer these near-death experiences are getting old. I swear to God my nerves can’t take this.”

Sheppard looked at his team, at the hope showing on all their faces.  “I think that goes for all of us.”

Sheppard quickly disconnected the call and headed out the door with Teyla and Ronon falling into step on either side.

“We must hurry,” Teyla warned.  “The Genii are already preparing to launch an attack of their own to rescue their scientist.”

“Gear up,” Sheppard ordered, “and meet me at the Jumper.”  A smile spread across his face as he patted both his teammates’ backs. “McKay’s no doubt bitching to come home.”

Ronon, for one, couldn’t wait to hear it.

*             *             *             *             *

By the time they reached Tollac, Teyla had watched John’s relief that Rodney could be alive morph into something much more dangerous for those who had taken him in the first place.

“We’re going to search the lab facility,” John told Lorne as they exited their Jumpers.   “You take the administrative buildings.  You find him, you call me immediately.”

“You got it, Colonel,” Lorne assured.

“If your team finds Meilos or any other high ranking sons of bitches, hold them,” John ordered.  “I definitely want to have a chat with them after we find McKay.”

“John.”  Teyla pulled John’s attention away from giving his orders to point out Ladon and several heavily armed Genii walking their way.

“Colonel Sheppard,” the Genii leader hailed when they were within speaking distance, “we found Dr. McKay.” 

“Is he….” John asked warily.

“Alive,” Ladon confirmed.  “He’s being held in a cell in the basement of the lab facility.”

John was already moving toward the building.  His team and the Genii quickly followed suit.

Teyla felt a wave of relief that their hopes for Rodney’s well being were proven true.  Still, it was clear Ladon was not telling them everything.  “You did not release him?”

“We thought it would be best to wait for you to arrive,” Ladon explained.  “It might be easier on him.”

Before she could ask why, two other Genii soldiers exited the building with a bound man fighting against them.  The man was screaming for them to let him go, that they had no right to take him from his home.

Ladon waited until his men were past before he told them, “That is Galreck; up until we thought he died six months ago, he was one of our best nuclear scientists.”

“Did he defect?” Ronon asked.

“We don’t believe so,” Ladon said.  “We believe the Tollacs used drugs to convince him that he was no longer a Genii.” He motioned toward the door to the laboratory facility.  “My men have this building secure but they could use some assistance in the administrative building.”

“Lorne, take your team to help the Genii,” John ordered.  “We’ll get McKay.” 

“The Tollacs were working on a series of new drugs when they approached us.” Ladon spoke as he led them into the building, down two flights of stairs, and into a dimly lit hallway.  “They were looking to weaponize them and wanted our assistance with rocket development.  As you know, that isn’t one of our strongest areas, although Galreck had been making progress.  One of the drugs they were developing disorients the enemy, plays with their memories. We believe they used that drug to convince Galreck that he was a Tollac scientist.”

The news had Teyla’s anxiety returning. Rodney may be alive, but what if he thought his friends were now his enemies?

“How fast does the drug work?” John asked, picking up the pace down the hallway.

“We’re not sure, but we don’t think it works on its own to strip away the person’s alliances.  It appears to require additional measures.”  Ladon stopped in front of a door where two Genii stood holding a Tollac prisoner, a scientist by his dress.

Teyla tried to remember where she had seen the scientist before, then her eyes widened in recognition.   “He is one of the scientists who was in the video with Rodney, during the explosion.”

Ladon nodded to one of his men, who opened the door.  “Dr. McKay is inside.”

John wasted no time pushing past Ladon but stopped short a few steps into the room so that Teyla and Ronon had to maneuver around him to see inside for themselves.  Teyla immediately understood why John had stopped.

The room was rather large but nothing more than concrete walls and a floor with a drain it in.  Water stood in puddles around the room, and a hose was coiled near the door next to the body of another Tollac, dead from a blast from a Genii gun.  The man was fortunate he was already dead or Teyla might have completed the deed herself.  Rodney was huddled on the floor in the opposite corner of the room with his forehead resting on his knees that he had pulled up and wrapped his bare arms around, as if to seek warmth any way he could.  His uniform had been replaced by a thin gown similar to those worn by patients in the infirmary on Atlantis, only his was soaking wet and clung to his shivering form.

John seemed frozen in his tracks but Teyla immediately crossed the room.  “Rodney,” she started, gently placing her hand on his head.

Rodney immediately flailed away from her touch, using his arms to cover his head and tried to push himself even farther back into the corner.

Teyla looked helplessly back at John as Rodney started mumbling incoherently to himself.

Ronon growled at the scene before him and turned to grab the Tollac scientist just outside the door, drag him into the room, and slam him against the wall.

“Ronon, wait,” John said calmly, much more calmly than he looked.  “We may need him.”

As if that was enough to spur him into motion, John crossed the room and knelt in the puddle in front of Rodney.  “McKay, it’s Sheppard.”

At the name, Rodney started shaking his head emphatically.  “No. No. Sheppard isn’t real.  He’s not real.”  He lowered his voice as he continued to babble.  “Can’t say he’s real.  Can’t. The water.  No no no no.  Can’t say that.”

The puzzle pieces snapped together for Teyla.  They were attempting to erase Rodney’s memory of his friends using the drugs and torture with the water hose.  Teyla’s blood burned with the desire to hurt those responsible for this.  The squeak from the scientist Ronon was lifting off the floor by his neck let her know Ronon felt the same way.

John, however, was focused entirely on Rodney.

“Rodney,” John’s voice was gentle as he tried to coax their terrified teammate out of the corner.  “It’s okay.  There’s not going to be any more water, I promise.  It’s John.  John Sheppard.  I’m right here.  John Sheppard.  You know me.”

Rodney was still protesting but not as insistently as before.

“Look at me, Rodney.  John Sheppard.  You know me.  You _know_ me, Rodney.  Just look.  John Sheppard.  I’m going to keep you safe.”

“John?”  Rodney peeked over his shoulder.

“That’s right, buddy.” John assured.  “You’re safe now. It’s okay.”  John reached out a tentative hand and rested it gently on Rodney’s shoulder.   “I’m here and you’re safe.”

Rodney flinched at the touch and John pulled back his hand, not wanting to spook him further. 

“John’s not real,” Rodney whispered.  “You’re not real.”

John started to reach out again, then checked himself.  “I swear, Rodney, I’m real.  I’m here.  And those bastards aren’t going to hurt you ever again.”

“John always…always had food,” Rodney challenged, a hopeful rise in his voice almost turning it into a question.

Teyla realized they probably hadn’t fed Rodney in all the time they’d held him and it had been close to thirty-two hours since he had last eaten.

“Shit, McKay, I’m sorry.” John pulled a PowerBar from his vest and handed it over.

Rodney snatched it, like a wild animal daring to eat from a human hand out of near starvation.  He was shaking so hard he couldn’t open the wrapper.  Teyla wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the drop in blood sugar, but John tried to take it back to help him.  The act had Rodney trying to conceal the bar against his chest protectively.

“Teyla?”  John held out a hand to her and she quickly retrieved the spare PowerBar she carried in her vest and handed it over.

John unwrapped it and offered it to Rodney.  “Trade you.”

Rodney dropped the wrapped bar and took the one John held, cramming it into his mouth in a few bites as if to keep anyone from trying to steal it.  His eyes darted anxiously when they heard Ronon speak behind them.

“You didn’t feed him?”  Ronon demanded of the scientist he still held.

“It’s part of the process,” the scientist managed to squeak out as Ronon tightened his hold.  “The drugs, water treatment, sleep deprivation, hunger—“

Ronon slammed the Tollac hard against the wall.  “Where’s the antidote for the drugs?” he ordered.

“There is no antidote,” the scientist informed him, but quickly added.  “They wear off!  After a while they wear off.  It’s why we have to re-administer them every few hours, reinforce them with the treatments until we don’t need the drugs anymore.”

It was then Teyla noticed the plethora of needle marks on Rodney’s arms. Fury had her snapping at the scientist, “Treatments? You mean torture.  By the Ancestors, I shall make you regret--”

“Teyla,” John said calmly, grabbing her arm and giving her a meaningful look.  “That can wait.”

She glanced back to see Rodney staring wide-eyed and backing into the corner once more.  John was correct, Rodney’s wellbeing came first, and it was obvious her anger toward the Tollacs was upsetting him.

“Forgive my outburst,” she told Rodney.

He watched her warily as she took the bar on the floor and unwrapped it before handing it back to John.  It was obvious Rodney wasn’t going to trust anyone else for the time being.

Rodney took the bar from John’s hand and ate it just as quickly.  “John.  John Sheppard?” he asked as he chewed.

“That’s right.”  When Rodney finished chewing, John asked, “Feeling better?  I probably have another one--”

Rodney lunged forward then, his hand clinging to John’s tactical vest as he buried his face in John’s chest and started talking even quicker than normal.

“John.  John Sheppard. John Sheppard.  I told them you were real.  I told them. John Sheppard.  But then they injected me and and and it was _hard_ …”   Rodney gritted his teeth on the word, as if it was physically painful to remember the experience.  “…hard to hold on to you.”

“I’m real.”  John rubbed a reassuring hand down Rodney’s back.  “Christ, McKay, you’re like ice.” 

However, when John pulled back to attempt to take off his vest so he could give Rodney his jacket, Rodney held tighter.

“Don’t leave!” Rodney pleaded.  “Don’t leave me here with them!  They’re taking you, taking you away.”  He tapped frantically at his temple with one hand while tightening his grip with the other.  “I can’t hold on to you.  I try and I try and then there’s the water and the injections and I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

Taking Rodney by the shoulders, John ordered, “Look at me, McKay.  Rodney, look at me.”  When Rodney finally raised his eyes, John promised, “We’re not going anywhere without you. We’re taking you home from this shithole.  Me and Teyla and Ronon.   We’re taking you home.”

Rodney looked to where Teyla knelt at arm’s length from John. “Teyla?”  He closed his eyes and tapped his head again, as if he could jar loose the memory.  “Teyla…Teyla Emmagan?”

Teyla dared to move in a little closer.  “Yes, Rodney.  I am Teyla.”

“You had a baby,” Rodney told her, as if she was the one who couldn’t remember.

“I did.  His name is Torren.  You were there at his birth.”  She smiled at the memory.  Rodney keeping his panic and, yes, disgust, at bay but the beaming smile as he gently handed over her newborn son wrapped in his own jacket.  “You helped bring him into the world.  You were the first person who ever held him.” 

That alone would have made Rodney such an important person in her life, although there were so many, many reasons more.  It was also why she had needed to find out what had truly happened to him on Tollac.  Rodney had shared the most precious memory of her life, the first time she had held her son.  He may not have understood how special that made him, but she did.

Ronon’s heavy leather coat dropped onto Rodney’s shoulders and John gave Ronon a look of gratitude.  Rodney stared up at the large man in confusion but he didn’t try to bolt.   “I know you… I think…you had scars.  John?”

Rodney still hadn’t let go of John’s vest, even as Sheppard adjusted the coat to better cover him.

John rubbed reassuringly at Rodney’s back after he was satisfied he’d done what he could to keep McKay warm for the time being.  “That’s Ronon.  Ronon Dex.  You’re right, you know him.  He’s on our team.”

“Team?”  Rodney’s face twisted in frustration.  “I don’t… I can’t…”  Still holding tight to John’s vest, he dropped his head again, as if looking at Teyla and Ronon was too difficult.  “My head hurts.  When I try to think about… I can’t remember.”

“You will,” John told him confidently.   “The drugs will wear off and you’ll remember.”

Rodney shook his head.  “They’ll come back.  They’ll come back and bring more drugs and spray the water—“

“No, Rodney, they won’t.  I’m here now, and so are Teyla and Ronon, and we aren’t letting anyone else near you.  We’re taking you home.”  John wrapped an arm around Rodney’s shoulder.  “Want to get out of here?”

Rodney nodded fervently.  “You won’t leave me, right?”

The question pierced Teyla to her soul, bringing back every guilt-ridden doubt she’d had since learning Rodney might be alive.  They should have refused to leave the planet until they saw his body.  They should have never left him alone in the labs to begin with.  The stricken look on John’s face told her he had the same doubts she did.

“I swear, I’m not going anywhere without you.”  John stood, pulling Rodney along with him.  “Come on, let’s get you out of here and back to the Jumper.”

Rodney wobbled when he reached his feet, but John steadied him by tightening his grip around Rodney’s shoulder.  “Jumper.   That’s our spaceship.”

“Sure is.”  John shuffled Rodney toward the door.  He paused long enough to tell the Tollac scientist, “You have ten minutes to evacuate this facility before I blow it sky high.  Oh, and if anyone tries to come out with any files or research materials, they’ll be locked in before it blows.”   Turning to Ladon Radim he asked, “Can you make sure my orders are followed?”

A slightly sinister smile curled Ladon’s lips.  “With pleasure, Colonel Sheppard.”

“And if that one doesn’t make it out, I won’t be heartbroken,” John added.

“If you have no objections, I think we’d like to take him back with us.  If anyone can help restore Galreck to his former self, it will be him.” The ominous grin just grew.  “After that… who knows?”

John simply shrugged.  “As long as he never comes within a mile of McKay again, you can do whatever you want.”

Rodney looked back at the Genii before asking, “Are they our friends?”

John didn’t slow their exit from the building.  “Today they are.”

Outside, Rodney squinted against the sun, then a look of panic spread against his face.  “Who…who are those people?”

There were a combination of marines and Genii soldiers leading a variety of Tollac government officials.  When Major Lorne saw them, he started their way.

“I should know him, right?”  Rodney’s panic seemed to be growing.  “I should know him but I don’t.  I don’t know…John, I don’t know him.”

John signaled for Lorne to stay where he was then he stood so he was blocking Rodney’s view of everyone except himself.  “Rodney, that’s Major Lorne.  He’s from Atlantis, from home.  I need to talk to him, so will you stay here with Ronon and Teyla?”

“But you said you wouldn’t—“

“You’ll see me the entire time.  I’m just going right there.”  He gently pulled Rodney’s hands off his vest.  “Teyla’s right here.  You stay with her and I’ll be right back.”

Rodney’s eyes darted between Teyla, who tried her best to look like a safe alternative, and John.  Finally, he nodded and stepped back beside Teyla. 

Teyla tentatively placed a hand on Rodney’s back.  Up until now, John had been the only one he would allow to touch him.   She was relieved when he didn’t flinch away.

John took that as a good sign as he gave one more reassurance that he would return and went to meet with Lorne, who was pulling Meilos from the group of Tollacs.

Teyla couldn’t hear the conversation but she could hear Rodney muttering under his breath.

“John Sheppard. Teyla Emmagan.  Ronon Dex.  They’re real.  John Sheppard.  Teyla Emmagan.  Ronon  Dex…”

He kept repeating the names like a mantra until Meilos raised his voice.

“No, Colonel, I beg of you.  If you destroy the facility, the chemical release could be devastating to our city.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you took one of our people and tortured and brainwashed him,” John growled back.

John turned to leave and Meilos grabbed his arm. 

Teyla had to hold tighter to Rodney’s arm when he called a worried, “John,” and started toward their teammate.

“John is well,” Teyla told Rodney, but she honestly wasn’t so sure herself. 

Physically, yes, he was fine.  John simply shook Meilos off and started back toward his team.  Mentally, however, Teyla was concerned.  He was talking genocide and did not seem to care; that was not the John Sheppard she knew.  He had spent the last day and a half holding his emotions in such tight control with little food and less sleep that she knew he was reacting without considering the long-term implications.

Lorne was looking at his commanding officer with surprise and more than a little concern.  “Colonel, maybe we should rethink this.”

“They _tortured_ McKay,” John stressed in justification.  “Drugged him, starved him, sprayed him down with freezing water.  Tried to turn him against Atlantis so he could help them build their fucking weapons of mass destruction.  Letting those same weapons be their undoing seems pretty fair to me.” 

“I get it, you’re pissed.”  Lorne told him.  “Hell, I’m pissed, too.  But not all the Tollacs did that, sir.”

John looked back to where Teyla and Ronon stood on either side of Rodney and seemed torn between listening to reason and listening to his instinct to protect those he loved. 

Teyla knew the feeling all too well.  She felt the same way.  Still….

“John, Major Lorne makes a very sound argument.”  She couldn’t help but feel she was betraying Rodney by arguing to let the Tollacs survive.  However, it was the right thing to do.

John scrubbed a hand through his hair.  “Fine.  Lorne you oversee the evacuation from the city.  But by nightfall I’m blowing that facility with a drone no matter who is still left on this planet.”

Major Lorne looked toward the sun before announcing, “Okay, you heard the Colonel.  You have about two hours to get everyone through the gate.”

“But there is no way we can pack an entire—“ Meilos started.

Lorne stopped him before he could protest any more.  “Take what you can carry.  Everything else stays.”

Resuming his position beside Rodney, John was already herding his team toward the Jumper.  He never looked back.

Ronon took Teyla by the elbow to slow her.  “Sheppard can’t go back to Atlantis like this.  He needs to cool down, and Rodney’s a mess, too.  He freaks out whenever anyone new comes into sight.  Can you imagine what’s going to happen when he steps off the Jumper in the city and he’s surrounded by doctors and Woolsey and everyone else happy to see him alive?”

Teyla had considered the same thing.  “Perhaps we can take the Jumper to a more remote landing spot in the city.  Limit the number of people who attend to him until he feels more comfortable.  If the Tollac scientist was correct, the effects of the drug should start to wane soon.”

Ronon didn’t look like he believed her suggestion would work but he didn’t argue.

As soon as they entered the Jumper, Rodney sniffed the air.  “Is that…?”

“Coffee,” Ronon confirmed.  “You love coffee.”

“Your Van Helsing,” John added, sitting Rodney on a bench as he pulled a blanket from the storage bin.

“Van der Westen,” Rodney corrected, which had all three of his teammate staring at him in surprise.  “What?  Is that not right?”

John snorted and shook out the folded blanket.  “No, you’re right.  Leave it to you to forget us but remember your coffee maker.”

“I don’t remember it,” Rodney defended.  “It just popped into my head.  Just like I don’t remember any of this.”  His hand gestured to take in the entire Jumper and the people in it.  “It all just feels….” He struggled for the correct word.  “…like it’s mine.”  He rubbed his forehead.  “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Yeah, it does,” John replaced Ronon’s coat with the blanket.  “What do you say we get you home?”

“This is home,” Rodney insisted.

“No, this is the Jumper,” John tried to explain.  “Atlantis is home.”

Rodney stood abruptly.  “No!  I can’t go to Atlantis.  It’s not allowed.  They said I can’t go there ever again.”

Teyla took a step forward and Rodney took two away from her.  “Rodney, you are safe now.  The Tollacs cannot hurt you again.”

“No!” Rodney turned to John.  “You said you were taking me home, this is home.  You’re here.  Teyla and Ronon are here.  My Van der Westen is here.  This is home.  This is safe.   Atlantis isn’t…it isn’t real… it isn’t safe…” He rubbed his forehead harder.  “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Okay, look, let’s just take a minute.” John opened another storage bin and pulled out some spare clothes.  “How about you change into something dry?  And then we’ll talk about it some more.”

“And we won’t go to Atlantis?”  The way Rodney said it, it was more statement than question.

“Not until you’re ready.”  John handed him the clothes.  “You need help or privacy?”

Rodney gripped the clothes tightly.  “Where would you go?”

“Just to the front of the Jumper.”  John hitched a thumb toward the cockpit. “We’ll shut the bulkhead and you’ll have the entire back to yourself.”

“We’ll even make you a cup of coffee,” Ronon offered.

Rodney looked to the front half of the Jumper, as if to assure himself there was no exit his teammates could use to sneak out.  Then he glanced to the back to assure himself no one could get in.  He finally gave a small, worried nod of his head.

As soon as the door shut, John dropped into the nearest seat.  “Christ, we have to get him back to Atlantis and to the infirmary.”

“I am not sure he will go willingly,” Teyla told him.

“At least not yet,” Ronon added.  “But give him a little time and his memories will come back.”

“We don’t know that,” John argued.

“Yeah, we do,” Ronon countered stubbornly.  “He remembers us.  He’ll remember Atlantis.  He just needs time.  Besides, you want to blow the lab facility and it’s going to take a while for the Tollacs to evacuate the city.  The gate will be tied up with them leaving.”

“I had planned to get Rodney back to Atlantis before they started using the gate,” John informed him.

“And then what?” Ronon asked.  “Leave McKay there while you came back?”

By the expression on his face, John hadn’t thought his idea through that far.  A fact that confirmed to Teyla that Ronon had been right; John needed the time to decompress as much as Rodney needed it to reclaim his memories.

“Ronon is correct,” Teyla added.  “Once we are back on Atlantis, Rodney will need us all for support.”

John jabbed a finger at the closed door.  “He needs a doctor.”

“There’s a medic with the marines,” Ronon suggested.  “He can check him over.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to tell Woolsey as to why we aren’t bringing McKay back immediately?”

Neither Teyla nor Ronon had a chance to answer because a loud bang came on the bulkhead.  “John?”

The flash of terror on Rodney’s face was replaced with relief to see the three of them as the door slid open.  Teyla again heard him mumbling to himself, “They’re real.   They’re here.”

John’s mouth tightened into a sharp line. Teyla feared he planned to take Rodney back to Atlantis regardless of what the scientist wanted.

Ronon closed the small distance between them and gently ushered Rodney to a seat.  “Why don’t you sit while Sheppard makes you that coffee?”  Ronon slid his arms back into his coat.

“Where’s he going?” Rodney asked anxiously.  “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.  I’m going to get someone to check you out and make sure you’re okay.”

Rodney studied Ronon closely, all the while murmuring, “Ronon Dex.  I know him.  He’s real.  Ronon Dex. Ronon Dex.  I know him.”

Teyla understood what he was doing immediately; Rodney was memorizing Ronon so he wouldn’t forget him when he left.  She also knew Ronon wasn’t going anywhere.  Keying her radio she called, “Major Lorne, could you please send your medic to our Jumper to examine Dr. McKay?”

“Copy.  He’s on his way,” Lorne reported back.

Ronon took off his coat once more and sat in the seat opposite Rodney.  “On second thought, maybe I’ll have some coffee, too.”

Behind them, however, John announced, “Might want to rethink that.  Looks like the Van Morrison is broken.”

Rodney stood immediately.  “Van der Westen.  And what do you mean broken?”

“I mean, there’s no steam.”  John fiddled with several levers to prove his point.

Rodney shouldered John out of the way.  “Sheppard, what the hell did you do to my espresso maker?”

“ _I_ didn’t do anything, McKay.  I did it exactly like you showed me and nothing happened.”

“Obviously you didn’t do it exactly like I showed you or it would have worked perfectly.”

Teyla fought to contain the laughter bubbling up inside her.  It was the first time since they’d been told by Melios that Rodney had been killed that John and Rodney had seemed like their old selves.  Ronon’s waggle of eyebrows said he felt the same.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Rodney, other than the Dutch apparently aren’t the brilliant engineers you think they are.”

Rodney’s mouth dropped open in shock.  “I have no idea who the Dutch are, but if they built the Van der Westen, they are a hell of a lot smarter than you.”  Rodney pushed John farther out of the way.  “Just go over there so I can fix it.”

John moved back to the pilot seat in time to answer a call from Woolsey.  “Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis; status report, please.”

“Atlantis, this is Sheppard.  Mission was successful.  McKay is safely onboard Jumper One.”

“That is wonderful news, Colonel.  We have a medical team on standby for your return.”

Rodney looked up from the coffee maker, silently pleading with John not to take him back to Atlantis.

“It may take a little while.  We have…” John struggled to come up with an excuse before finally settling on, “…some repairs to the Jumper.”

“Should we send assistance?” Woolsey inquired.

“No, we’re good.  McKay is already working on it.”  John assured, although he seemed reluctant to keep Rodney here any longer than necessary.  “Once he’s done, we’ll neutralize the Tollac risk, as we discussed.”

“The facility,” Woolsey confirmed.  “Understood, Colonel.”

“Atlantis, can you let Jeannie Miller know he’s okay?” John added watching Rodney carefully for any sign of recognition.  There was none.  Teyla, however wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t recognize the name or was too engrossed working on the espresso machine.

“Of course, I’ll call her myself.  Good luck. We’ll be awaiting your return.  Atlantis out.”

Rodney reluctantly stopped work on the coffee maker when the medic arrived.

“Do I know him?” Rodney asked when the young marine entered the Jumper.

“I’m sure you’ve met him, and I’m just as sure you’ve forgotten him.” John pushed Rodney gently toward the medic.  “But that has nothing to do with the Tollac drugs.”

John sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Rodney as the medic checked him over and reported his blood pressure and pulse were slightly elevated, probably due to the drugs, but nothing dangerous.  He also said McKay appeared dehydrated and recommended an I.V. 

John immediately vetoed that idea when Rodney tried to crawl the walls of the Jumper as soon as he saw the needle.

“We’ll keep him drinking Gatorade until he’s pissing neon blue.” John assured, even as Ronon pushed the poor corporal out the back of the Jumper.

Teyla was already opening the bottle and handing it to Rodney.  She personally preferred the orange flavor, but no citrus was allowed on the Jumper because of McKay’s severe allergy to it.  She honestly was unsure if the orange or yellow had any real citrus, but it was not worth the risk or the complaining from Rodney to stock them.

“I know my memory is pretty messed up but I’m almost certain that’s not a normal bodily function,” Rodney argued.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”  John tapped the bottle.  “Now drink up.  Finish this one and you can get back to work on the Van Halen.”

“Van der Westen.”  Rodney rolled his eyes before narrowing them.  “I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“See, I told you your memory would come back.”  John tapped the bottle again.  “Drink.”

Over the next two hours, Rodney’s memories did start to return as he worked on the espresso maker.  Ronon eventually stretched out on the back bench and was snoring within minutes of laying down.  Teyla sat in the copilot seat and propped her feet on the DHD so she could keep one eye on John and Rodney and another on the Tollacs streaming through the gate.  There was a part of her who pitied the Tollacs, at least the regular citizens who were not involved with Rodney’s kidnapping.  Perhaps when the chemicals dissipated, they could return.  Perhaps there were those like Ladon in the Genii who had seen the error of the ways of their leaders and would take a stand to turn their world into a better place.  Perhaps they would drift among worlds, disperse like the chemical cloud, and the Tollac would cease to exist as a people.  Yes, a part of her did feel pity, but another part did not care what happened to them as long as they had Rodney back safe and alive and John acting more like himself.

Lorne called, saying they didn’t think they could complete the evacuation in the time allotted.  John relented, saying simply, “Get them all out.  Do a sweep afterwards to make sure they’re all gone.”  Still, he would not be satisfied until he had destroyed the laboratory and all their research.

John settled beside Rodney as he worked.  “How’re you doing, McKay?  Ready for another Gatorade?”

“Are you kidding?  My internal organs are floating.  Besides, if I drink anymore, I’m going to turn into a Smurf.”   He blinked in surprised confusion.  “That’s a thing, isn’t it?  A Smurf? Maybe an alien race?”

“Only if you’re Gargamel.”  John bumped Rodney’s shoulder when he frowned, not recognizing the name either.  Teyla was, unfortunately, more than familiar with Smurfs and the wizard who pursued them; it was one of Torren’s favorite movies.  “It’s a thing, only not a real thing,” John explained.  “It’s a cartoon character.  I think they’re Dutch; like your Van der Westen here.”

“Van Damme,” Rodney corrected.  “Wait…that’s not right.”

John’s lips twitched.  “No, you’re right; my mistake.  It’s definitely a Van Damme.”

“I don’t get it,” Rodney complained as he screwed another part back into place.  “All these bizarre things just keep popping into my head randomly, and yet I’ve been working on this damned machine for two hours and I have no clue what I’m doing.”

“Hey, it’ll come back.  Just give it time.”  John yawned.  “You remembered Smurfs, didn’t you?”

“Hooray, I remembered fictitious characters.” Rodney snorted.  “Although up until a few hours ago, I thought you guys weren’t real either. So who knows, maybe Smurfs really do exist.”

“Only on Blu-ray and DVD,” John glanced over at Teyla with a grin.  “Actually, you’re better off not remembering that.”

Rodney shrugged as he removed another copper piece and studied it.  “I lost my memory once before, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did,” John admitted and vaguely added, “You had a thing growing in your brain, but we got it out and that was that.”

“I don’t remember what happened.  Hell, I don’t even remember losing my memory, per se.  What I do remember is what it _felt_ like to lose my memory.” Rodney shook his head and peered down into the opening he’d created when he removed the part.  “I remembered it in that cell, when they’d inject me with the drugs and things would just… slip away.  I remembered that feeling of losing what was important to me.  Each time they took a little more.  One more person, one memory at a time, and with each memory they took, that feeling became more and more familiar.  That feeling was worse than the water and the rest of it, but the stronger that feeling became, the more I fought to hold on to you guys.  Doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“No, it makes perfect sense.”  John didn’t elaborate beyond saying, “It’s the same way I know it will all come back to you again.  We’re kind of living out your whole memory loss experience, only on rewind.”

It made perfect sense to Teyla, as well.  As Rodney’s illness had progressed, his world had collapsed to a small handful of people, most of whom were in this Jumper.  She had seen the way Rodney had fought to cling to anything about them, if only their names.  In the situation he was in on Tollac, she had no doubt he would have done the same.  Any of them would have done the same to hold on to him if the situations had been reversed.

“You know, I don’t remember the details, about us, about any of us.  Like I can’t remember when we first met.”

“Antarctica,” John supplied.

“Seriously? I’ve been to Antarctica?”  Rodney considered for a moment.  “Did I like it?”

“Well, you did like all the Ancient gizmos, but there was a lot of bitching about the cold.”

“The Ancients…they built Atlantis.”

Both Teyla and John watched Rodney carefully.  It was the first time he’d mentioned Atlantis without becoming agitated and insisting he couldn’t go there.

“They did,” John confirmed.

Rodney asked hesitantly, “Do I like it there?”

“You do,” John assured.  “You like it a lot.”

Rodney sighed heavily. “I wish I remembered that I like it.”

John sat up a little straighter.  “Look, you just said you don’t remember much about me, but you trust me.”  When Rodney nodded agreement, John asked. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why do you trust me?” John challenged.  “You have no memories to tell you that you should trust me, but you do. So why do you trust me?”

“I don’t know, you got me out of that cell, gave me food and a ridiculous amount of blue fluids to drink.”

“Uh uh,” John disagreed.  “You trusted me before any of that happened.  Why?”

“Because I just did.  Deep down I knew I could.  Just like I know you blame yourself for what happened to me.  And that you genuinely thought I was dead or you would have found me sooner.  I know that really sucked for you, because I remember what it felt like when I thought you were dead.”  Rodney paused.  “Why did I think you were dead?”

“You’ll have to be more specific about which time,” John said dryly.

“Well, _that’s_ encouraging,” Rodney sniped.

John waved him off.  “The point I’m trying to make is, even though you don’t remember the details, you remember me, and if you can push past the shit the Tollacs planted in your head about Atlantis, you’ll remember it, too.”

“But it’s been hours since they last injected me.  I thought this stuff was supposed to wear off.”

John shook his head.  “For a man who once waited fifty thousand years to save my life, you sure are impatient.”

“Seriously, Sheppard.  Not reassuring to hear those sorts of things.”

“It should be,” John told him.  “Hell, if you can manipulate time and space to save the entire Pegasus Galaxy, not to mention my sorry ass, you can damn well do about anything.”

Rodney snorted.  “Today I can’t even save an espresso maker.”

Teyla’s smile at the two men's banter eased away when she watched the last of the Tollacs walk through the gate.  When she sat straighter in her seat, John stood as well.

“What’s up?”

“I believe the Tollacs have completed their evacuation,” she told him, knowing what would come next.

John glanced over at Rodney and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was.  They would have to leave the planet themselves as soon as they destroyed the lab facility and Rodney may not want to leave just yet.

John keyed his radio.  “Lorne, this is Sheppard.  What’s your status?”

The major’s voice reported back, “We’re just finishing the flyover, Colonel, to confirm there are no remaining life signs in the city.  We should be ready to go in about ten minutes.”

“Copy,” John told him.  “Report back when you complete the flyover.”

“Roger, Colonel.  Lorne out.”

When John resumed his seat next to Rodney, the scientist asked anxiously, “So, time to go?”

John shrugged.  “You still have your repairs to finish.”

“You know, Sheppard, I think I just remembered something else about you.”

Raising his eyebrows, John asked, “Oh, yeah?  What’s that?”

“That you have a bit of a martyr syndrome.  You always put others’ wellbeing before your own.  Sometimes that means staying behind to let others escape.”  Rodney reached out and patted John’s shirt pocket, grinning in victory as he felt something and started to pull it out even as John protested.  “Other times it means breaking an espresso maker so I can have the time to—what the hell is this?”

“It’s an Epi-pen!” John exclaimed.  “What the hell did you think it was?”

Rodney stared at the Epi-pen in confusion.  “I thought it was the valve release for the vacuum pump on the espresso maker.”

“Why would I have that in my pocket?” John demanded.

“I thought you took it out on purpose so I’d have something to distract me from freaking out over my memory loss.”

“McKay, I can barely make the thing work, much less know how to not make it work.”

Ronon stood from where he’d been sleeping and Teyla saw him pull something from his pocket.  “Is this what you’re looking for?”

Rodney narrowed his eyes and snatched the piece from his hand.  “Yeah, that’s the valve release.  Why do you have it?” 

Ronon simply shrugged. “I found it on the floor earlier.  Must have fallen off the machine at some point.”

“Thanks,” Rodney said, his voice full of suspicion, but he quickly turned his attention to reinstalling the part.

Rodney worked silently for a few minutes but finally asked John, “The Epi-pen…you have allergies?”

“No, _you_ have allergies,” John corrected.

Rodney’s eyes widened in worry.  “ _I_ have allergies. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you seemed to have a few other things on your mind like not remembering who you are.”

“Knowing what things could kill me should be on the top of the list of what you tell a person when they have amnesia.”

When Ronon moved nearer to Teyla, she used the distraction of the argument to quietly note, “It is fortunate you found the part.”

Ronon crossed his arms and leaned back against the DHD console. “Guess I’m just a lucky guy.”

“Today, I believe we are all lucky,” Teyla agreed, turning her attention back to John and Rodney.

“Lemons?”  Rodney demanded.

“And bees,” John added before reassuring him, “Neither of which is a threat on the Jumper.”

“If you say so,” Ronon added to Teyla as the argument between their teammates continued.   “I was just running interference like you asked me to do.”

If ever there was a time they had needed someone to run interference, Teyla decided today was the day.  Given the change Rodney and John had both made in the few hours Ronon had bought them, it was well worth it.  The raging argument, which was more the norm for John and Rodney than civil conversation, just went to prove her point; they were all lucky.

“Hold on a second….”  Rodney held up a halting finger.  “Are lemons the yellow ones?”

Yes, very lucky, indeed.

*             *             *             *             *

Ends up Atlantis wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Rodney had feared and was actually as amazing as Sheppard had promised.

Rodney had finally decided that if he trusted Sheppard and Ronon and Teyla and they trusted Atlantis, then he’d give it a chance, as well.  Besides, when they blew the lab facility they would have to evacuate the planet immediately or risk contamination, and Rodney really wanted to blow the lab facility.  In fact, the only one who wanted to destroy the facility more than him was John.

Sheppard had showed him how to operate the drones, which needed a special gene, one Rodney was surprised to learn he possessed. After John maneuvered the Jumper in front of the gate, Rodney fired.  The explosion was spectacular and Rodney felt like a weight had lifted from his chest to see it go up in flames. 

Sheppard had been right about giving Atlantis a chance, because as soon as he stepped into the city, Rodney's whole body reverberated with the sensation of home.  The people, however, were another story, and Rodney was thankful he was escorted to the infirmary flanked by Sheppard on one side, his hand firmly gripping Rodney’s bicep, and Teyla on the other, with Ronon hovering protectively behind.  The three of them took turns staying with him in the infirmary.  Well, Teyla and Ronon swapped out; Sheppard collapsed in the hospital bed next to his and slept just as long as Rodney did.

By the next day, he felt he had recovered more memories than he had forgotten, including the fact he had a sister.  When he pointed that out to Sheppard who was sleeping in the next bed, John told him around a yawn, “Yeah, you should probably give her a call.  She was pretty upset about you being dead and all.”

Sheppard left while he called Jeannie; whether out of a sense of privacy for McKay or pure chicken-shit cowardice, Rodney wasn’t sure.  After listening to Jeannie berate him about putting her through the emotional ringer with yet another death scare, his money was on the latter.  Afterwards, he went to look for John to personally thank him for pissing his sister off.  Only, when he stepped outside his quarters, he had no idea where he was going. 

Rodney managed to quell the growing panic, tap the radio, and calmly call, “Sheppard, where the hell are you?”

Okay, calm may have been an overstatement.

“My office, Rodney.  Turn right out of your quarters, take the second left to the transporter.  I’m the first door on your right when you step out.”

“I know where your office is,” McKay snapped. 

He didn’t.

“Okay, Rodney, anything you say,” John patronized.  “Don’t get lost.”

He did.

John eventually found him on one of the balconies.

“I just wanted some fresh air before I came to see you,” McKay justified.

Sheppard pursed his lips and nodded.  “Twelve stories above my office.  Seems like a legitimate explanation.”

“After the conversation I just had with my sister, I’m tempted to throw myself into the ocean to put myself out of my misery, except she’d be pissed at me for the whole death thing again.”

John hooked McKay’s elbow with his finger and pulled back.  “Honestly, Rodney, I’d feel a little better myself if you took a few steps away from the railing.  You’re not exactly on your A-game lately.”

McKay rolled his eyes but didn’t protest when Sheppard moved him a good meter and a half from the balcony's edge.

“Jeannie says if I'd think of someone other than myself for a change she wouldn’t be on an emotional rollercoaster every time she gets a call from Atlantis.  Like I was kidnapped, drugged, and tortured just to annoy her.”

“Not just her,” Sheppard pointed out.  “I find it pretty damn annoying, too.”

“Seriously, Sheppard, did you have to call her?”

“Well, let’s see, Rodney, just a couple of months ago you specifically told me I was to be the one to contact to her if something happened to you.  So if something happens in the future, instead of abiding by your wishes, I’ll just let your sister live under the false pretenses that you’re fine until you don’t show up for a visit one year.  I could even send her crappy gifts for her birthday and Christmas to draw the ruse out a little longer.”

“Would you do that for me?  Because that would be great.”

“Or here’s a better plan.  How about instead of making me lie to Jeannie you just don’t die next time.”

Rodney threw his arms wide.  “I didn’t die this time!”

“It sure the fuck felt like you did!” John yelled back, before shaking his head in frustration.  “Christ, every time I think about that video, I want to go back and blow up another building on Tollac.”

“You want me to fly you back there?” Rodney offered.  “I doubt I could find the Jumper bay, but I’m pretty sure I remember how to fly the Jumpers.”

By the look on his face, Sheppard was actually considering the offer.  Rodney had made it in jest, but if that’s what Sheppard really wanted to do, he’d fly him back and level the damn city in a heartbeat.  He owed John his life, his sanity, his memories…hell, everything.  What was an alien city compared to that?

Sheppard gave a small snort.  “You could barely fly the Jumpers before you lost your memories.  No way I’m letting you behind the wheel until every one is back in that big ol’ brain of yours.”

“Fine, you fly, I’ll launch the drones.”

“I think you’ve destroyed enough of this galaxy, McKay.  But thanks for the offer.”

Rodney wasn’t completely sure which destructive outing Sheppard meant, but he did have some vague memories of a big chunk of a solar system falling prey to his machinations.

“Sheppard, I hate the Tollacs for what they did to me, but I hate them even more for what they did to you.  You and Jeannie and Teyla and Ronon, what they did to all of you.  I can’t imagine…actually I don’t have to imagine because I have felt it.  But you came back.  Multiple times, I might add, but you manage to come back each time.  And better yet, I came back.”  Rodney shrugged.  “Apparently we excel at defying death.”

Sheppard sighed.  “I guess there are worse things to excel at, like, say, being able to recite Pi to fifty decimal points.”

“Exactly,” Rodney agreed.  “Or like being able to crush two beer cans on your head at the same time.”

Sheppard started back inside and Rodney fell into step beside him.   “Or quote every Monty Python movie by heart.”

Rodney blinked against the dim light in the hallway.   “Or quote _Top Gun_ from heart.”

“Speaking of _Top Gun_ , did Jeannie tell you she went full Meg Ryan on me?”

“No!”  McKay smiled widely at the thought.  “She told you that I loved to fly with you?”

“Not those exact words, but pretty close.”

“I don’t suppose you were recording it were you?” Rodney asked hopefully.

“Rodney, it was a very emotional conversation for both of us,” Sheppard chastised as they reached the transporter.”

“So?” Rodney demanded.

“So, let’s drop it and get a cup of coffee.  I just brewed a fresh pot in my office.”

Rodney stepped into the transporter.  “I thought you busted your coffee pot.”

With a shrug John told him, “Somebody fixed it.”

Rodney shook his head in disbelief.  “Sheppard, there’s still a bunch of stuff that’s fuzzy but I distinctly remember that thing was in at least two dozen pieces.  Sometimes things just can’t be fixed.”

Sheppard gave him an odd, knowing grin as the doors to the transporter closed.  “Yeah, but sometimes they can.”

The End

 


End file.
